


the one thing that brings light to all of my darkness

by rories



Series: sifki week 2017 [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29953245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rories/pseuds/rories
Summary: “Do you know what you want, my heart?” Frigga asks.Loki has been in love with Sif for as long as he can remember.
Relationships: Loki/Sif (Marvel)
Series: sifki week 2017 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2202978
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	the one thing that brings light to all of my darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a response to the 2017 Sifki Week Prompt - Young Love. Yes, I am very extremely late, but whatever, new content.

Loki is still very young when Sif is born. Thor is as well, so when Lady Ulfrún brings the baby on a visit with Frigga, they don’t much care to meet her. Frigga sits them both down, however, and settles between them, cradling a bundle in her arms as she explains the child’s place in their lives. Near them, Heimdall looks on protectively, pressed against his mother’s legs. 

Baby Sif, when she is older, will be a mighty warrior, the singing blade to the king’s hammer, a second line of defense behind her brother. Thor thinks that is the best thing he’s ever heard, though he does fuss a little at the thought of needing a protector. 

“She will not protect _you_ , Little Prince,” Lady Ulfrún says. “She will protect Asgard.” 

Thor takes the answer in stride, but Loki gives the baby another once over. Strange that something so small and fragile already has such a large destiny chosen for her. The thought buzzes in the back of his brain, this idea that this baby, Sif, will be _forced_ to protect his idiot brother who still can’t tell when it’s Loki disguised as a snake. He can’t believe that trick has worked multiple times. 

He doesn’t like it, this idea that her future has been decided already, but he’s too young and too new to know how to fix it. And though he won’t understand it for many years, it’s in that moment, whether he realizes it or not, that Loki chooses Sif over all others.

*****

The palace tutor teaches them all in the same room despite Thor, Loki, Heimdall, and Sif all being different ages. Children from the noble houses also attend and that’s how they meet Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun who begin calling themselves The Warrior Three. They follow Thor around as if he’s already king, participating in fake battles that they win every time. Sif joins in most of the time, Heimdall only some of the time, and Loki never, content to sit along the sidelines with a book and snide remark. 

Sif sits with him sometimes, knee to knee, while he reads or draws, leaning back on her hands with her face to the sun. Loki finds himself looking at her sometimes, wondering why she’d want to spend time with him and doing his very best to not notice the pretty way her hair falls across her shoulders. 

The only game Loki allows himself to play with the group is Hide-and-Seek, a game that they hardly want to play anymore for a multitude of reasons. Thor claims they’re too old for baby games like that and Fandral complains that Loki wins every time. Loki compromises by being the Seeker for the first few rounds, but by the time he gets to hide, they all claim it’s not worth playing. 

Sif convinces them to keep going more often than not, catching Loki’s eye over Heimdall’s shoulder and winking at him, barely noticing the flush that blooms across his cheeks. These are the rounds that Loki loses on purpose, sneaking close to where he knows Sif is hiding and keeping an eye on whoever is looking for them. When he sees them getting close, he _accidentally_ makes a noise and then books it when he knows he’s been found. So far, the only one that’s been able to catch him is Hogun. 

If Sif ever figures out that he’s losing on purpose so that she can win, she never says anything. 

*****

Loki’s not sure what the feeling is that he gets upon seeing Sif and a visiting dignitary’s son sitting close together on a low wall in the garden. It’s something sour and sick at the pit of his stomach and he can feel something under his skin buzz as he watches them. 

Thor doesn’t seem to be bothered by the interloper, judging by his friendly conversations at dinner with the young man and the rest of the Warriors Three seem to be following Thor’s lead, as per usual. The only one that also seems to be put off by the arrival of the young man is Heimdall. Loki has caught him several times in the past few days staring at the newcomer with that heavy, all knowing gaze that Loki himself tries to avoid when possible. 

It’s not that the man has done anything egregious. In fact, he’s been perfectly polite to all members of the royal family, their friends, even the staff. Loki finds him insufferable. 

Sif, it seems, doesn’t agree, judging by the way she spends so much of her time these days in close conversation with the young man. 

“It is merely a crush, my heart,” Frigga says to him, appearing at his side as he tries not to watch Sif across the garden, head tilted toward the young man and deep in conversation. Loki does not jump at the appearance of his mother, a trait that irritates Thor to no end when it happens around him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mother,” Loki replies, but he does not remove his glare from the pair. 

His mother only hums beside him. “Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself,” she says, mysteriously, and Loki finally looks at her. He’s always wondered about the things his mother can see, though she claims she can’t, but since she’s started teaching him magic, he’s started to realize that perhaps not knowing is better. 

Loki stares at his mother’s profile, beautiful and strong, and tries to see what she sees. “I sometimes forget how young you are,” Frigga continues, finally moving her gaze to her son. “So young and already so jaded.” She gives Loki a sad smile and pushes a strand of hair behind his ear. 

Loki swallows hard and tries to tamp down the slight embarrassment he feels at his mother’s coddling. “I just -” he starts and then shudders out a breath. 

“It is okay to want,” his mother says, dipping her head to catch his eye. “What matters are the actions you take when trying to get what you want.” 

Loki feels his brows furrow in confusion as he looks to his mother. He knows she’s talking about Sif, but something in his bones tells him that’s not all she’s talking about. “Yes, mother,” he says after a long, long moment, swallowing again, but his words have lightened him slightly. 

“Do you know what you want, my heart?” Frigga asks, but when Loki turns to answer, she is gone. 

*****

“Hey there, birthday boy,” Sif says as she sidles up next to him, mirroring his position against the balcony overlooking the kingdom. “Why are you hiding out here?” She knocks her shoulder against his and it makes a small smile appear on his face. 

Loki sighs heavily, despite the contentment that had settled over him at Sif’s arrival. “They make too much of it,” he answers. 

“It is not every day that a prince of Asgard celebrates his 21st birthday.” The smile on her face makes his breath catch when he finally looks up and he has to look away again just as quickly. 

“We celebrated Thor’s 21st birthday just last year.” 

“Loki, are you not having a good time?” Sif asks, turning her body and leaning back against the balcony railing. 

He can’t help but trail his eyes along the planes of her body as she bends backwards slightly, the curves of her chest falling into the flat of her stomach leading to the swell of her thighs.

She’d forgone her usual armor for the celebrations tonight, and the silver dress she’d picked out falls across the curves of her body in a way that makes his throat go dry. He drags his gaze away from her legs and the fantasies of them wrapped around his head and catches her eye again. 

“I’m having a great time,” he finally answers and he’s told a lot of lies in his life, but this isn’t one of them. 

She’d seen him admiring, if the blush that matches his says anything. Loki clears his throat and looks back out over Asgard, willing himself back into control. Next to him, Sif does that same before turning to face him, closer now, close enough that he can feel the heat of her through his sleeve. 

“I got you a gift,” she says softly and then moves from his side before he can stop her. Now it’s his turn to rest with his back to the balcony, his long legs stretched out in front of him. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. Like Sif, he’s chosen to forgo his typical armor for the evening and instead wears a looser, dark green tunic with dark pants. 

Sif only glares at him when she turns back from the doorway where she’d gone to fetch a loosely wrapped package. Loki’s blush returns when her eyes travel down the length of him, long and lean and full of power. “Loki,” she says, moving to stand next to him, even closer than before. “It’s your birthday.” 

Loki only sighs and then takes the gift from her, a quiet ‘thank you’ breaking between them. The gift is not wrapped neatly like his parents were and it’s not wrapped messily as Thor’s was. Instead, it is merely folded into a soft silk maroon cloth that falls through his fingers like water as he removes it. 

“Oh, Sif,” he whispers, fingers of one hand running over the cover of the book he’d unwrapped. Despite being obviously well-worn and probably well-loved, the leather is sturdy and the gold inlay of the title shows no sign of fading. Carefully opening it, Loki can see that the pages are nowhere near falling apart and the dark text is perfectly legible. 

“Where did you find this?” he asks, not looking up from the book. 

“It took me a while,” Sif answers, and when he looks up from the pages, she’s got her hand in front of her mouth, a nervous habit that she’d picked up years ago. “And I had to get Heimdall to help me. I remembered you had that book as a kid until-” 

“Until Thor took it and lost it,” Loki finishes, looking back down at the book. “Sif, this is-” he says.

“Do you like it?” Her voice sounds too small for how much space she takes up in his life and Loki’s breath shudders out when he looks back up. 

She’s closer now, almost no space between them, and the way they’re positioned, him leaned back against the balcony and her almost touching his elbow, has him looking up at her in reverence. “Sif, I love it,” he says, his voice just as quiet. “Thank you,” he breathes out and he doesn’t take his gaze from her for a long moment. 

His lips quirk up when her eyes flick from his eyes to his mouth and then he falters when he notices just how close she’s gotten. His eyes mirror her movement then, glancing at her mouth, those too soft lips, that slight pout, and she must have licked her lips recently because they shine like a beacon. 

“Sif,” Loki whispers again, a siren’s call that pulls her closer. The fingers of one hand clench tightly around the book and he uses the other to brace himself against the balcony railing as they move ever closer to each other. 

A loud bang from just inside the doorway has them jumping apart quickly and Loki’s heart pounds in his chest. Sif has turned away from him, her hand at her throat and Loki tries to will down the flush that has bloomed across his neck and cheeks. 

“Sif,” he says, finally standing to his full height. 

“We should get back to the party,” is all she says, heading for the doorway and disappearing back into the crowd before he can say anything else. 

*****

As crown prince of Asgard, it’s Thor’s duty to protect the people from outside threats. For the most part, the realm is peaceful, but there are sometimes some outside armies that feel the need to test the might of Asgard’s Prince of Thunder. Thor normally faces these skirmishes head on, with Sif at his side, the blade to his hammer, and the Warriors Three not far behind them. 

Loki goes along with them, whether from concern or fear of missing out, only Heimdall knows. As a prince, he’s been trained since birth how to fight with weapons, and though he’s not built as strongly as his brother, his skills with a dagger are now better than even his trainers. 

All of this explains why he’s here now, in the middle of a muddy battlefield on a little planet on the edge of the realm, putting down a small but mighty insurgence of admittedly large warriors, all roaring that they’ll be the one to take down the Prince of Thunder. Thor’s hammer has taken out a large swath of the soldiers, but it is still six against...more than six. 

He ducks under the wide swing of a sword, bringing his own up to slide cleanly through the ribs of his assailant, stupidly left open by its errant attack. Loki spins around, knowing that where there is one warrior, there is another, and sure enough he turns to face a large, hulking beast with a sword raised above him. 

The magic he uses to shimmer out of the space he’d just occupied makes his skin tingle, but he ignores it as he stands behind his attacker now, slicing his dagger through the creature’s neck before it even realizes that Loki’s moved. 

The immediate area around him is now empty of enemies so he takes a moment to take several deep breaths and shake out the lingering tingles of magic. He can see Hogun in the distance, his mace swinging through the air as he takes down foe after foe. Volstagg is loud and bellowing, drawing the attention of the beasts toward him so that Fandral, slipping between trees, can sink his rapier into their spines. 

Not far from him, Loki can hear Thor laughing as his hammer slams into the sides of heads before swinging through kneecaps. His brother’s taunts and jabs are loud across the battlefield. Any other battle, Loki would not mind Thor’s arrogance, but there’s something about this fight that bothers Loki, something that he’s missing. 

He scans the battlefield for Sif, finding her on the other side of Thor, her blade heavy as she brings it down on one of the warriors shields, the clang of it loud even this far away. He can’t help but admire her, the strength in her muscles as she blocks an attack before pushing forward again. Her hair is in wild disarray and her skin is flush with exertion and adrenaline and even from here, Loki can see her eyes wild with delight. 

One of the battle heavy soldiers spots him then, alone on the edge of battle, and lumbers over, a grin splitting it’s face and showing far too few teeth. Loki dispatches it easily and then flits to his brother’s side on the edge of a spell. 

“There’s something about this fight that’s bothering me,” Loki says, barely out of breath and almost subconsciously conjuring a double of himself to distract a set of soldiers making their way to them. 

“That it is too easy, brother?!” Thor answers excitedly. 

“That it is too easy,” Loki confirms, his voice grave. The soldiers they are fighting are not falling easily, no, but from the reports Thor had received, Loki had been under the assumption that their army was much larger. 

“Perhaps we are just that good,” Thor says breathlessly, turning to face his brother. 

“Or perhaps we are being set up for a trap.” Thor just makes a scoffing noise. 

And then, almost in unison, the two of them throw their weapons over the other’s shoulder, Thor’s hammer humming with power as it passes by Loki’s ear, Loki’s dagger absolutely silent as it flicks past Thor’s head. Loki can hear the thud of an assailant behind him, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the large beast that had been barrelling toward Thor, the hilt of his dagger now the only thing visible where it sticks out of the brute’s eye. 

Mjolnir returns just as Loki waves his hand to resummon his dagger and he staggers when Thor sets his hand on his shoulder. “We’re doing just fine, Loki,” Thor says. “See?” he continues, and then waves his hand over the battlefield. 

Sure enough, the Warriors Three are felling a few final beasts and on the edge of the treeline, Sif is wiping her blade on the cloth of a dead warrior. 

And then Loki hears it. A slight rumbling in the distance, deep enough that it makes the trees shake. The rumble gets louder and louder and the rest of the group looks toward the forest. 

Just in time for a horde of those warrior beasts to come streaming from the trees. 

Sif is the closest, so several of the soldiers head for her, the rest breaking off, wave after wave, coming for the others. 

_There’s too many_ , Loki thinks. There’s too many for the six of them. Next to him, Thor spins the hammer and then looses it, sending it through a swath of creatures. Loki watches in horror as the horde keeps coming, a group of them surrounding Sif, too far away from any of them to do anything. 

“Sif,” Loki whispers and, almost without thinking, shimmers out of the space he’d occupied and appears at Sif’s side.

Too late. 

One of the beast’s large clubs swings down on Sif and she has no time to bring her shield up before it slams into the area between her head and shoulder. Loki looks on horrified as Sif crumples to her knees and then slumps to the ground. 

The beast that struck the blow roars in victory and white hot rage fills Loki. Rage at the soldiers still spilling out of the forest, at the Warriors Three for agreeing to this madness, at Thor who brought them here in the first place to appease some arrogant need to be the biggest and the fiercest. And look at what it’s brought them. 

Loki feels like he’s choking as Sif fills his vision, blood trickling from a wound on the base of her skull, a bruise forming along her neck, and utterly, _deathly_ still. The rage in him builds further until it feels like it might burst out of him. 

So he lets it. Loki drops to his knees right there on the muddy battlefield and lets loose a roar so loud that it drowns out the stomping footsteps of the beasts still surrounding them. And with that roar comes a wave of power so intense that it blasts through row after row of those hulking creatures, turning them into ash before they can take another step. 

As his yell dies out and his magic retreats back into his skin, leaving that tingling feeling in its wake, Loki reaches for Sif, pulling her to his chest and pressing shaking fingers to her neck. There’s a pulse there and Loki doesn’t choke out a sob, but it’s close enough. Instead, he looks to the sky and shouts to Heimdall, his voice loud across the battlefield. 

There is barely a second between his yell and the arrival of those vibrant multicolor rays of the Bifrost as they fall directly on top of the Loki and Sif, pulling them through to Asgard. Loki wastes no time lifting Sif up and striding off, not looking back when he hears his brother and the others landing as well, and barely acknowledging Heimdall when he appears next to him. 

The healers take her from him when he barges into the medical ward and they immediately start waving instruments over Sif’s head and neck. The glowing aura of Asgardian healing magic encircles Sif where she’s been laid out on a table and Loki wishes he’d paid more attention when his mother had tried to explain how it works. 

Eir, the physician, interacts with the Soul Forge, but she doesn’t seem to be concerned or frantic with her movements, only efficient and focused. It makes Loki feel slightly relieved, but he knows he won’t be fully okay until he knows that Sif is alright. Next to him, Heimdall is still as a statue, his gaze never leaving his sister as the physician and her nurses flutter around her. 

Behind him, Loki hears his brother and the Warriors Three rushing up, just in time for Eir to turn to them. She’s always been a severe looking woman so Loki can’t be sure if she’s about to tell them good news or bad as she approaches them. 

“Is she-” Thor starts from behind him and Eir holds up a hand to cut him off. 

“She’ll be fine. The injury did not break any bones and there doesn’t appear to be any damage to her brain,” the physician says. “Head wounds tend to bleed a lot which made the injury appear more severe than it actually was.” 

Loki feels a little embarrassed at that, like perhaps he shouldn’t have reacted the way that he did.

“Still,” Eir continues. “It’s good that you brought her in as quickly as you did. Concussions can become serious rather quickly. We’ll keep her here for a day or two. She should wake up in a few hours.” 

Behind him he hears a quartet of relieved sighs. Heimdall still doesn’t move, but Loki hears him swallow hard before he asks to sit with his sister. Eir lets them know that they’ll have to visit one at a time, so with great reluctance, Thor, Loki, and the Warriors Three leave Heimdall alone for the time being. 

Loki doesn’t know when Thor and the others go. He isolates himself in a long forgotten library and tries not to replay the afternoon over and over in his head. He doesn’t know what time it is by the time he drags himself back out and hopes that he can avoid seeing anyone on the way back to the infirmary. 

Heimdall is there when Loki slips through the door to Sif’s room. The lights are low, the only glow coming from the Soul Forge that’s doing nothing more than monitoring at this point. 

“How is she?” Loki asks softly, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of Sif. 

“She woke up a little before,” Heimdall answers. “She asked for you.” 

Loki’s head snaps to Heimdall’s and it takes him longer than he’d like to admit to wipe the shocked look off his face. 

Heimdall stands slowly from where he’d been sitting next to Sif’s bed. He looks down at his sister and runs his hand down her arm, squeezing her fingers before letting go and approaching the door. 

“You should sit with her awhile,” he says, his golden eyes knowing and Loki has never been more grateful that the Gatekeeper is a man of few words. 

Heimdall says he’ll be back in the morning and quietly shuts the door behind him as he leaves. Loki takes another long look at the woman in the bed, relieved to see that the bruising that had already started forming when he’d carried her in hours ago was already starting to fade. Benefits of accelerated Asgardian healing. 

He settles himself in the chair that Heimdall had vacated. The light and shadow cast by the Soul Forge surrounding Sif makes her skin look simultaneously golden and bruised, parts of her thrown into stark relief, the others hidden in shadow. She’s still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life. 

Loki slides his hand under hers and lets out a shuddering breath at the warmth of it. Despite all the assurances from the physician and from Heimdall, a part of him was afraid that the cold grip of death had taken her before he was ready. But her hand is warm in his and when he shifts his fingers down to her wrist, he can feel the steady thump of her pulse against his skin. 

He lets his fingers press there for another long moment before he heaves out a great sigh and presses his lips to the back of her hand. He feels his body relax, the anxiety and fear of the day falling away with every deep breath from Sif, every strong heartbeat he can still feel under his fingers. 

Loki isn’t sure when he falls asleep, but creeping hands across his hair and jawline wake him the next morning. The glow of the rising sun and the glow of the Soul Forge make her skin shine as he blinks awake, catching her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief just before a grin crawls across her face. 

“You look like shit.” 

He doesn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or be offended. Instead, he surges forward and presses a kiss to her lips, a kiss full of every emotion, every moment of joy and passion and fear he’d felt since growing up with her. He keeps his eyes open just to watch hers flutter shut and he swallows the noise of surprise she lets out. 

The fingers of one hand flutter delicately near her neck where her injury had been not long ago, but the other hand tangles into her hair, locks of it tangling as he holds her to him. When he finally pulls away after a long moment, both of them are breathing hard, warm breath on cooling lips, and it’s his turn to watch her eyes slowly open. 

He doesn’t remove himself from her space, still hovers over her where she’s pressed back into the infirmary bed, and he can’t help but brush his nose against hers and kiss her again, softer this time, but no less meaningful. “Sorry,” Loki whispers against her, still not pulling away. Beneath his lips he feels hers break into a smile and one of her arms wraps around his neck. 

“Don’t,” she says and tugs at him until he crawls into the bed with her, hovering over her, shielding her. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that forever.” 

Loki pulls back slightly, ignoring the pleasure-pain that comes from the grip she now has on his hair, and looks at her. “You never-” he starts and then swallows hard. “You never said anything.” 

He’s astounded by the blush that blooms across her cheeks as she averts her gaze from him. “Sometimes I wasn’t sure,” Sif says. “You’re a very good liar, Loki.” 

“I’ve never lied to you,” he answers, almost harshly. 

“You’ve lied to yourself.” She looks up at him then, those green-hazel eyes deeper than any universe Loki’s explored in all his years. “I was waiting for you to figure it out.” 

He can’t stop looking at her and the longer he looks, the more the happiness inside of him wells up, threatening to overflow and fill the room with joy. He smiles at her then, kissing her again and again until the joy he feels fills her to the brim with laughter. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” Loki whispers, pressing a kiss on her neck where just a few hours ago there was a mottled looking bruise, a jagged cut only inches from where his lips are now. 

“You’re here now,” Sif whispers and pulls him closer, raking her fingers through his hair. 

“It’s only ever been you,” he mutters into her skin. “It’ll always be you.” Sif doesn’t say anything and eventually both of their breathing slows, their eyelids heavy as he sinks further into her embrace. She’s strong enough to hold him and their arms encircle one another protectively. 

“My heart.”

**Author's Note:**

> Asgard aging is STUPID lol.
> 
> can asgardians get concussions????????
> 
> yes i stole a line from the dark world lolllll


End file.
